


your crooked love (a pyramid scheme)

by eleutheria_has_won



Series: Prompt Me! fills [9]
Category: The Underland Chronicles - Suzanne Collins
Genre: "The best defense is a good offense", (as applied to murder), Assassination, F/M, Political Expediency, Royalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2015-05-05
Packaged: 2018-03-29 02:05:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3878248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eleutheria_has_won/pseuds/eleutheria_has_won
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Write a fic of Goldshard and ripred"</p>
<p>[[From a Prompt Me! on thecityofregalia.tumblr.com . Head there if you want to submit a prompt of your own.]]</p>
            </blockquote>





	your crooked love (a pyramid scheme)

She’s gorgeous. That’s the first thought he has, the first time he sees the queen, and he’s more than right.

She’s a spoiled milk-fed brat, sneers his second thought. 

He continues to be right about her.

* * *

 

Youthful queens don’t have time for grizzled old mercenaries, but Old Ripred is the best there is, and he’s done the King a “favor” many a time. (Usually political enemies, lords he doesn’t care for anymore, people he’s a grudge against, but there’s been an honest deed in there once or twice.)

“Your Ladyship,” he says, bowing. If that sounds mocking out of the mouth of someone with more knotted scars on his face than actual face, well, that’s probably because it is. Old Ripred doesn’t care much for royalty. 

“My thanks, Sir Ripred,” she says frostily. “You have done us a service.”

The Queen ripples in the light like a sunset on a stream; she glows like honey; she’s golden.

Ripred is an old mercenary, but he’s not stupid. In fact, he might even venture to say he’s smarter than half the louts here put together. (Old Ripred doesn’t care much for humility either.) He knows that pretty doesn’t count for much, when your smile’s an acid-laced lure, and your heart is a bear-trap.

* * *

Whatever else she is or does, there  _is_  this: the queen loves her children.

* * *

She’s waiting for him and she rises to her feet when he enters the tunnel. 

“Is it done?” she demands. Ripred snorts. As if she couldn’t tell; he reeks of fear and blood. He’ll need to wade through a river or ten before the stench is totally gone, but that’s alright; he’s got more than enough experience hiding the evidence of his crimes.

“My condolences, your Majesty,” he says, brushing the dried blood off his front as best he can at the moment. “Your husband is dead, your children are fatherless. Oh, wait - should I say congratulations instead? I can never keep these things straight.”

“My thanks,” she bites out, and forces her way past him, back into the court.

Ripred snickers, grooms the last bit of dried blood out of his whiskers, and sets off down the hidden route that will take him far, far away from the Court of the late King Snare. 

* * *

“You’re an ugly brute,” she says in disgust.

“Why your Majesty,” Ripred purrs sardonically, “however did you guess.”


End file.
